Hanging Garden
by Fawx
Summary: Sequel To Babylon Sign your contracts in ink; enough blood will be spilled later.


Hanging Garden

Chapter One

Sirens were already sounding somewhere just outside of the business complex. Frantic, uncoordinated noise cutting under the sound of startled screams coming from the streets and office buildings surrounding the collapsing parking lot. From his vantage point, Kurama could see concrete dust pulling away from the wreckage and resolving itself into the younger Toguro brother. The large man paused to brush rubble from his overcoat, then paced calmly to the motorcycle propped diffidently against a parking meter some few feet away, as if he hadn't just easily demolished a building.

Kurama glanced back to the garage, still spewing out plumes of chalky dust, its support beams drifting to the side before gravity snatched them down to the pavement with a crash that made the surface under his feet vibrate. With effort, he could see Yuusuke in there, frozen in place, staring out after Toguro. He wondered if it was fear or anger that rooted the boy, but had no time to reflect. The motorcycle roared to life down the street, and so Kurama followed, taking the rooftops to the rendezvous point.

He'd deal with Yuusuke later. For now, he had to deal with his new team.

The brothers he'd already been formally introduced to. As soon as the contract had been signed and… 'act of good faith' concluded, Kurama had dressed while Sakyo called in his bodyguards. It hadn't been necessary, really, but Sakyo didn't know about Kurama's connection with Urameshi, and what he didn't know, Kurama wasn't about to tell. He'd likely find out sooner or later anyway.

He'd heard enough about the brothers from Yuusuke, with bits and pieces from Hiei, not counting what he'd already heard through the long-ago buzzing in the various gossip channels that sprang up after the conclusion of the last major tournament. 'Toguro' was a known name among demons who still cared about following statistics of tournament victors, but the name had fallen into obscurity. At least until Sakyo had gotten a hold of them.

Meeting them face to face had been… enlightening. The younger one, despite his brute strength and imposing figure, was polite, soft spoken. Intimidating, certainly, but not completely unlikable.

The older one was a troll. And that was all that needed to be said on the matter.

As for the other two…

He hadn't bothered seeking out either of the masked demons, especially not the one that had been lingering in the shadows of Sakyo's office during their contract negotiation. They didn't quite work for Sakyo, instead he got the impression they were Toguro's ducklings, following the younger brother around until such time as they felt it was necessary to move on. He didn't bother asking, and didn't care. He'd never liked Quest demons, and liked even less demons who had no concept of privacy.

The distant drone of Toguro's motorcycle followed him like a phantom as he skipped his way from rooftop to rooftop, before dropping down an alleyway, using the jutting halves of air conditioning units stuck to the small, dingy windows as a stairway to slow his momentum. He landed just a block from the VIP garage to Sakyo's building, just as Toguro pulled up to the garage entrance. Toguro waited for him, dismounting the motorbike.

"Eventful morning," Kurama said, drawing up even as the garage gate lifted. Toguro nodded once.

"I didn't expect you to come and watch," Toguro said, walking the bike to its place in the garage. He seemed uncomfortable. After a moment he said, "That isn't my usual method."

Kurama smiled briefly. "I didn't imagine you had spent the last fifty years focusing on the art of intimidating teenagers," he said. He caught Toguro struggling against a frown. Interesting.

"...Neither did I," Toguro replied after a long silence. Kurama couldn't quite tell if he was trying to find foothold on the joke, or if he was being utterly serious.

They walked in amiable silence to the garage elevator. When the doors opened, the older Toguro brother was there already, leering out at them from under the pale fluorescent lights in the elevator's carriage. Kurama inched aside to give him ample room to climb his brother. He ignored the sneering, sideways glance the older one gave them, instead locking eyes with his own reflection in the back of the elevator doors.

"How did it go?" The older one asked, settling birdlike on the younger brother's shoulder. After a moment, the younger one replied,

"I have successfully terrified a fourteen year old boy."

Kurama grinned at his reflection.

The meeting was brief, the two masked demons didn't bother to show. Once Sakyo had been informed of the team's various goings on, he'd dismissed them without a word. The Brothers vanished off to some task or another, leaving Kurama alone to wander the building. Not that he felt particularly comfortable in staying; Sakyo hadn't bothered to separate his business and pleasure, letting his downtown office serve as kind of a Black Black Club Lite. At any given time Kurama would catch a glimpse of some patron or another slithering about. He wondered if Sakyo thought allowing such clients about the place conveyed anything but a pathetic lack of willpower.

At the very least,Kurama thought, letting his feet take him along the many twisting hallways of the Office building, He shows an impressive commitment to vice- he heard the tail end of a pained shriek from the hall to his left. He turned a sharp right, biting the inside of his cheek. He wasn't against murder for pleasure, by any means, but he was also well aware that, at the level he occupied now, there wasn't much he could do to keep Sakyo from putting him in one of those rooms. Which, depending on the circumstances…

Well, he'd burn that bridge when he got to it. For now, the place was starting to feel claustrophobic. He halted, put his hands in his pockets, and turned to face Karasu and Bui.

He didn't have to see Karasu's face to detect the derisive sneer. Bui was, as ever, completely impassive.

Kurama still wasn't sure what to make of them. Karasu was clearly several miles over the madness horizon but seemed to be taking it at an easy pace. Bui was… He didn't know what Bui was supposed to be. Or why he constantly wore his armor around the place like he expected a fight. Kurama couldn't remember if he'd heard Bui say anything in the past week that wasn't an unintelligible sound that Karasu would make a snide comment about.

He'd quietly filed them away in his mind as 'A Couple of Clowns'; Unfunny, unsettling, and practically dripping with demented malice.

"Shouldn't you be back on your master's lap?" Karasu hissed from behind his mask. He tilted his head towards Bui; Kurama nearly strained his ears trying to hear if the armor demon was actually saying anything.

Utter silence, followed by a slightly hysterical laugh from Karasu.

Kurama forced himself not to take a step back. Instead he shrugged. "I have more important things to do."

Karasu made a noise that, filtered through the mask, sent a cold claw running up his spine. "Like going off and playing with your little mixed-breed friend?"

Kurama blinked. Little mixed-breed friend? Then his brain clicked, and he let his awareness stretch until he could 'feel' the blip of energy that was Hiei, loitering on the roof. He was getting better at hiding, the little bastard.

He nodded once at Karasu. "Correct. Excuse me." And then he turned on his heel, stalking down a short hallway towards the emergency stairs. They didn't pursue him, they wouldn't here, not with Sakyo around, anyway. But he could hear Karasu's grating laugh following him all the way to the roof, and it lingered as he followed Hiei over the city's skyway path. He wanted as far away from that laugh as possible, and Reikai, for now, was as far as he could get.

Still, it didn't fade until he could see the distant glimmer of light off the river Styx.

There were things down there, in the rolling darkness that carved into the valley of the river Styx. Great, dark things, with huge eager eyes, soaking up the light, waiting for a careless soul to wander too close to the side of the bridge. It wasn't a very fair system of judgement; there were many souls heading towards the gate to the underworld who were there out of sheer terminal stupidity - trying to weed the flock out now seemed pointlessly cruel.

Kurama watched the writhing shapes with caution. They were beneath him in many ways, those last soul-sucking scavengers, but it never paid to be careless. He stayed close to the middle of the souls' bridge. Not like Hiei, who dashed along the very railings as if daring the things down there to try and get him. Kurama caught his eye briefly; the gaze held only long enough for Kurama to get a sense of profound disappointment from Hiei. Tinged with perhaps a little jealousy.

There was nothing for it now, he supposed. Hiei would continue to be annoyed with him, though possibly slightly less than he would be if Kurama hadn't told him the basic outline of his plan to begin with.

"I just don't understand why I have to be the one playing 'friends' with the humans," Hiei had sneered, disappointment coming off him in waves. "You should have brought me in on this earlier."

"I'm not bringing you in," Kurama had told him, shattering any further delusions Hiei had of being liberated from what he clearly regarded as babysitting. "I'm only telling you now to avoid the annoyance of having to deal with lying to you. You do pout so."

And then Hiei had clamped his mouth shut and sped off, only to wait for Kurama at the Souls' Bridge.

He could see Botan hovering near the gate, waiting for them just inside the customary safe zone. Kurama flashed her a grin. "How come you never meet us further out, hm? It'd be nice to have more talkative company on the way in," he said jovially. Botan sniffed at him, tapping the handle of her oar.

"I'd fall for the charming act if I didn't know your alleged reputation," she said, dropping her hover so they were at eye level. "I heard Youko Kurama once managed to kidnap a Shinigami. Is that true?"

"You're the ones with my life history all filed away neat and pretty," Kurama said, his grin fading only a little. "Really, Botan. There's something to be said for kinder treatment of poor rehabilitation cases like myself."

"'Rehabilitation' my hinder," Botan said, leading them through the gate. "I don't trust you not to try some sneaky thing the second we're out of that safe zone, pal."

"You wouldn't see it coming," Hiei grumbled from a few paces behind.

Kurama shrugged. "If you insist, I suppose I must play the part of the delinquent," he sighed.

Botan rolled her eyes. "Now you're just being a jerk about it."

"I never."

Botan didn't bother to comment further; instead marching on in silence until they reached the cluttered bullpen leading to Koenma's office. Papers scattered as an Ogre tripped past them, trying to avoid Hiei's sudden presence. Kurama snatched one of the drifting sheets out of the air. He scanned the page, reading the highlights of an altogether boring existence; an average lifespan, a few photocopied images, notes and underlines.

Botan snatched the paper out of his hand. "Not for demons to be reading thank you very much!" She shoved the paper at the overworked Ogre and shooed it along. She then brandished her oar at Koenma's office door. "Get. And don't think you aren't being watched, buster."

Kurama flashed her another cheeky grin before ducking into the office. Hiei was in and posted against a wall before the door had a chance to close the whole way. And seated behind the mounds of paperwork teetering in constant threat of avalanche, was Koenma, head in his small hands, hunched over a file that looked like it had been torn out from underneath someone's couch.

"I hate to say it, but you two couldn't have had better timing," he said, closing the file. Koenma rubbed his eyes and sat back in his chair, glancing from Hiei to Kurama. "I assume you've both already heard of the Toguro Brothers' invitation to attend the new Ankoku Bujuutsukai?"

Hiei grunted from his station. Kurama said, "Their motives are known to us."

"Good, that saves some explaining time. I'm going to need the two of you to support Yuusuke during the tournament. We-"

"Unfortunately," Kurama said, his voice cutting Koenma off like a surgical knife, "I will not be participating in the tournament on Team Urameshi."

Koenma sat up a little straighter, eyes narrowing. "Your probation isn't even close to being up, Kurama. You don't have any say in your assignments until we say so."

Kurama reached into his jacket pocket. He'd made two copies of the contract; one he'd hidden for safety, and the one he carried now. He handed Koenma the small sheaf of paper. "As much as I would love to assist my good friends in the upcoming fight, I have a prior contract."

Koenma took the contract from him, flipping through the pages, mouth moving around his pacifier while he read.

"You mean to tell me," Koenma said, setting down the paper and laying his palms flat atop it, "that not only are you not helping Yuusuke, you're going to be actively opposing his team? You're working for Sakyo?"

"That does seem to be the case."

And when were you going to inform us about this?!" Koenma's face began to redden. Kurama took a surreptitious step back, out of tantrum range.

"Now, actually. I wasn't aware that Yuusuke would be a contender until today."

Koenma's hands crumpled around the paper. He leaped onto the top of his desk, brandishing the contract and looking as if he wanted to swat Kurama over the nose with it.

"Then renege this contract! Kurama we can't afford for you to be fighting for the other team! That is an order!"

Kurama put his head to one side, then spread his hands helplessly. "I can't. It's legal and binding, the terms of negotiation are clear."

Koenma screamed.

Demon contracts were, by agreement, unbreakable. Gods didn't interfere (not directly, anyway) and let the humans figure out the loopholes for themselves, while demons were free to write up binding contracts that mortal beings could not escape and gods, barring a grievous misuse of power, could not destroy. It kept things balanced and satisfied the kinds of gods who paid attention to things like how destiny worked and how there's always some kind of loophole. Whether it turned out to ruin or benefit the human stupid enough to sign was out of their control. For the most part.

At least for Kurama's purposes the contract was binding enough that even enraged as he was, Koenma's little hands couldn't rip the paper to shreds. He threw it to the ground at Kurama's feet instead, pacing over the top of his desk.

"This is insane... Kurama you can't just- but you did. Did you plan this?!"

Kurama held up his hands. "I knew there was going to be a tournament. I didn't know they were going to have Yuusuke be the guest of honor."

"He'll be slaughtered."

"Not necessarily."

Koenma whirled, pointing viciously. "You think you can weasel out of your probation, don't you? I swear to you, if you're just throwing up smoke screens to screw with me…"

The accusation hit a bullseye in the black little part of Kurama's heart that was still labeled 'demon.' He didn't like the idea of Koenma being so close to guessing his plans, even if it was just brushing the tip of the iceberg. Kurama sneered at him, recovering instantly. "Don't accuse me of being so basic. I have no intention of watching Team Toguro skate to victory, and I certainly don't intend to just stand back and watch Yuusuke die. There is a debt to be repaid."

"And you think you can balance that debt while fighting on the side of his, of our enemies?" Koenma crossed his arms, still fuming. "We've heard that you're good, Kurama. At least good at being a con artist, but I don't think you know the kind of power you're dealing with here. Toguro is practically untouchable for a demon at your level."

Kurama's jaw tightened. Koenma didn't even know the half of it. "I don't plan to challenge Toguro directly. My focus, as it stands, is on his support." He knelt, picking up the contract. Folded it carefully and put it back into his jacket pocket. "The contract is not with either of the Toguro brothers, or their associates. It is with their employer, who happens to subsequently be my employer at this point in time."

"So does that mean you're going to stand back once the fighting starts?" Koenma was doing his best to try and stare Kurama down, but as far as gods went, he had very little practice with demons, even less with Kurama's type.

"It means that I will have to service my contract, which means I fight on Team Toguro. And I will be fighting. Who I fight will be determined by the arena alone."

Koenma heaved a sigh, dropping back into his chair. He stared at Kurama for a moment, then transferred his look to Hiei. "What about you? I don't suppose you have some awful news hiding up your sleeve?"

"No." Hiei spared a look for the two of them. "I'll be the one who plays nice this round."

Koenma waved his hand. "That's bad enough news on its own," he muttered. Hiei bristled at him, but kept silent, instead glaring sideways at Kurama. You owe me for this, the glare said. Kurama offered him a minimal shrug.

"You can go, Kurama," Koenma said, still not rising from his slump. "It seems Hiei and I have business to discuss without you involved."

Kurama straightened his shoulders, putting on a hurt face. "Why, Koenma! You don't think I'd use any information you give Hiei against you or the team, do you?"

"That's exactly what I think. Now get the hell out of my office."

Chapter One

5/3/14

The long-delayed sequel to Babylon, for Sekah 3


End file.
